Stories from a real life cowpuncher that will give you a smile and a glimpse of God.

We Only Make Fun Of Friends

by Kevin on March 3, 2010

I waited for nearly everyone to get off the plane in Atlanta before I did. I walked through the airport looking for the baggage claim area. There were not very many people since it was nearly midnight. I finally found where I was supposed to go and headed down to sub-basement level 43.981253 or something like that. When I walked up to the spot where the bags would come out, I felt a tad bit uncomfortable. Everyone was staring at me. I mean everyone. I looked around wondering why everyone was staring at me.

I stood face to face with about 150 people and these people were all college age. When I heard, “Well looky here boys. We got ourselves our own little Howdy Doody in the house.” I knew that the next couple of minutes might get a little uncomfortable. Here I was, straight off the ranch in my boots, hat, and jeans and I stood there face to face with a black college marching band.

I don’t think they had ever seen a cowboy outside of the movies.

They gawked, they stared, they whispered in their buddy’s ear, and one guy took it upon himself to make fun of me like I have never been made fun of in my entire life. Let me say this right now. Out of all those people, only one, just one, was a jerk. That’s a testament to that college. You take 150 kids from any other college I can think of and you will find a lot more than just one pothole. Anyway, this guy walked bow-legged around me while singing “Look at me I’m a cowboy!! I ride pigs and eat sticks!” Ever so often he would change his wording to something a little more clever when the laughter would die down. You gotta keep your audience happy. He would come right up and turn his back to me and then walk off ten paces with his “finger” gun pointed at the sky. He yelled “When I get to ten, you better draw your gun partner!”

I want you to know that I stood there and could feel the redness in my face. Many of you are probably thinking, “Man, if that happened to me I would do this or that.” No you wouldn’t. You would have done the same thing I did and stood there and tried to act like nothing was wrong. There was one comment from the back of the large group of people. I don’t know why I heard it, but I did. An unknown speaker said, “I bet he wishes he would have worn different clothes on this trip.” For a split second, I have never agreed with a statement as much as I agreed with that one.

But only for a second.

My tormentor was gearing up for another round of his comedic act. This whole time, I had wanted to break his ever-loving mouth off and shove it down his throat. Or something like that. But after I heard the comment about wearing something different. I realized that for a second I had been ashamed of who I am. Just for a second, I didn’t want to be a cowboy anymore. I didn’t want to be made fun of anymore. I just wanted to get back to Texas.

My Chris Rock impersonator was standing about ten feet in front of me. He was between me and the rest of the band. He was shooting his guns off in the air claimin’ he was Howdy Doody, the fastest gun in the world.

That’s it. A man can only stand so much of this type of abuse. I put my bag down and the room got deathly quiet as I strode right for him. No longer was anyone laughing. The showdown was happening.

I guess he read his audience’s eyes because he turned around. I was on him by now. There was nowhere for him to go. He no more got turned around when I kicked him right in the belly and took all the wind out of him. I didn’t use my boot, I used good ole’ Texas hospitality.

When he turned around I said, “Where I come from it’s considered bad manners to make fun of people you don’t even know. Just so no one in here will think that your momma didn’t raise you right, let me introduce myself. My name is Kevin Weatherby and I am from Coyanosa, Texas.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake. You could see the indecision on his face. He was speechless. I told you I took all the wind out of him. Finally, he reached out and shook my hand.

He said, “My name’s Leon.”

I shook his hand like a man and then said, “Well, Leon it’s nice to meet you and now that we have been properly introduced and have become friends, (I was backing away at this point to my original spot where my bag was laying) please continue with your sometimes funny comedy act.” He just stood there. He didn’t say anything or move a muscle. “Go on Leon, you can do it.” I hollered.

He dropped his head and walked away. The place erupted with laughter. The band now turned full force on Leon. They made so much fun of him because he was just clowned in front of everyone by a little skinny cowboy. Leon was as red as I had been.

Mark 8:38
38Don’t be ashamed of me and my message among these unfaithful and sinful people! If you are, the Son of Man will be ashamed of you when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.

For just a second that day I was ashamed of who I was.

There are many times in our Christian lives that we are put in these same circumstances. Our friends may make fun of us for trying to live the lives that God has called us to live. But we must find the courage within ourselves to stand up for Jesus. We must find the courage, even when faced with overwhelming odds, to not be ashamed of the message. If you are ashamed of God down here, Jesus will be ashamed of you up there. Today I ask you a question. Which one does your life resemble? The cowboy or Leon? Do you stand up for God or do you make fun of him by living a sinful life where Jesus is no where to be found?